


Rude Awakening

by 12tigersharkevin



Series: I Will Possess Your Heart [3]
Category: Septiplier - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Drug Use (Wearing off), Jack is still a creep, Kidnapping, M/M, One-Sided Relationship, and scary, tied up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 17:05:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13908438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/12tigersharkevin/pseuds/12tigersharkevin
Summary: After a long night, Mark finally wakes up.... Tied to a chair, with a stranger who keeps calling him 'love'.





	Rude Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> The next installment is finally here!! Please forgive me for how long it took! I have reasons, but you aren't here for excuses. You're here to watch a terrified Mark squirm. So let me not keep you waiting~

A throbbing pain in the back of Mark’s head was the first thing greeting him while waking up. The second greeting was the pressure on his chest, disrupting his breathing. He tried to move to get comfortable, but had no awareness of his surroundings and couldn't seem to adjust himself properly. Stirring from his sleep, the American groaned softly. His head suddenly dropping to one side, startling him a little more into consciousness.

 

"Uhh...! What...?" the American mumbled, attempting to open his eyes for a second before sleep claimed him again. However, he gave up on the attempt instantly.

Too bright. Were the curtains open?

From what he could guess of his current position, Mark assumed that he had fallen asleep sitting up, which would explain why he felt so sore.  As the man slowly became more aware of his body, he started to feel sore spots, especially along his back and neck. The American went to rub his neck but found he couldn’t move his hand. He couldn’t move the other one either. Both hands were restrained.

 

Mind clearing faster as adrenaline kicked in, the American struggled in his restraints. Whatever was on Mark's wrists kept him fasten to point of forcing him to fight against his own weight, evident by the chair shaking with his attempts at movements. Mark tried to pry his eyes open, only to be blinded by a harsh light. He hissed out a curse, turning his head away quickly.  "Sssshhit."

 

"Careful, dear!” A voice suddenly chirped, light and excited. Mark yelped, startled by the sound, but the owner of the voice didn't seem bothered. “I made sure you were secure enough not to fall. But you may hurt yourself if you put too much pressure on the ropes."

 

"What-! Who's there?!" The American nearly shouted. With more words accompanying the voice, Mark had a better idea of what it sounded like. The speaker had a smooth, slightly high, masculine voice with what the American assumed was a Scottish accent. Mark’s thoughts raced with questions and hazy memories. He tried to open his eyes again but ended up wincing away from the light.

 

"Don't sound so worried, love. It's just me." the voice cooed. There were soft footsteps and Mark was almost certain they were moving in his direction. Pushing through the sting, Mark fought with himself to keep his eyes open enough to see who was talking. He managed to make out a figure through blurry vision but no other details.

 

"Wh-who's me...?" The American asked.

 

A wounded gasp came from the blurry figure.

 

"Who's me?” The figure repeated with a ton of offense. He then paused, deafeningly silent for a moment much too long for Mark’s already fragile psyche. When the American began to think that the man had somehow disappeared, the voice continued. “You say that as if you don't already know, my love... But of course... You're joking, _aren't you_?"

 

If the long pauses and constant trail-offs weren't unnerving enough, Mark swore his heart had stopped when the voice suddenly dropped threatening low. It lost any sort of gentleness or cheer for those last two words.

 

Mark fell silent, not daring to speak and risk upsetting his assumed captor again. The American could hear the man moving once more, and he forced his eyes open a bit. To his relief, the stranger was at least not moving towards him. Instead, the man began to pace back and forth in front of the American.

 

"Of course, you are! You must be... After all... I am the one that loves you. Surely, you couldn't forget me," The owner of the voice said, clearly trying reasoned with himself. He appeared to no longer be facing Mark while speaking.

 

"I don't remember love involving being tied to a chair..." Mark muttered under his breath, unable to resist the bit of snark.

  
  
  


His captor stopped abruptly from pacing.

 

"What was that dear?"

  


Mark internally cursed himself while ducking his head. Again, he didn’t dare to speak.

  


His captor started moving again.

 

A shadow casting over Mark.

 

“That’s what I thought, love.”

  
  


The American was terrified to move, but at the same time, the shadow allowed him to open his eyes without much resistance. With his head still down, the first thing Mark could see were the ropes around his chest and around his wrist.

 

Blurry hands that weren’t his own rested on the edge of the chair. The man was practically standing over Mark. Tilting his head a little bit upward, Mark's eyes spotted red, assuming it to be the man’s shirt. Even with the man being less than a foot away, the American still couldn’t see much of his captor, partly because the dark shadow cast over his features, and partly because Mark was without his glasses.

  
  
Slowly, the American brought his head up to see the voice’s face. There was still a dark shadow over everything because of the high-intensity light, but Mark could somehow see the man’s smile. A twisted, excited grin that causes Mark to reel back at the sight of it, terror clear in his eyes. However, moving back only proved to be a painfully dumb idea, and Mark was assaulted with light again. “Fucking-!”

 

"What's wrong, dear?"

 

“That light is too fucking bright,” Mark grumbled, lowering his head back into the provided shade. He opened his eyes once more and lifted his gaze. For the moment, the man appeared to be no longer smiling. Without the creepy smile, the American could focus on some other visible features, like his captors short, green tinted hair.

 

“Oh. I can fix that if you want. But I meant before that, you made a face. What’s wrong?” The man asked again. Mark swore that he saw concern in the stranger’s dark eyes.

 

“I was… Just surprised to see you...sweetie." Mark answered, managing a small smile. With the word ‘sweetie’, his captor appeared to be pleased. He smiled again, but less threateningly. Noticing the man soften, the American relaxed a little, shifting in his chair.

 

However, the calm moment only lasted for a few seconds before the stranger stepped back, and Mark had to deal with the cursed light above him once more.

 

"I've been waiting for you to wake up love. I never left your side." His captor explained. His footsteps moving away from the American.

 

"How long was I out?" Mark asked. The man didn’t answer at first. There was a short moment of silence then he heard a click and the light went off.

 

When the American opened his eyes again, the room felt jarringly dark. His captor had turned off the main light and replaced it with a small lamp. In the glow of the dim light source, Mark could make out green hair, pale skin, a red shirt, and something light blue around the man’s waist. It appeared too big to be a belt, but from his distance, the American couldn’t make out what it was.

 

"A couple hours." His captor finally answered, stepping in front of the lamp. His features cast back into shadows. “I've known people be out longer so I wasn't too worried.”

 

Mark was semi-relieved by the answer. He absently chewed at his bottom lip as he tried to search his memories for what happened. However, he was brought out of his thought as he caught on to something the man had said. "Wait... So you've done this before..?"

 

"Of course," The man nodded his head with a matter of fact tone. At least, Mark's captor was open to sharing. “I wanted to be sure of your safety. So I knew I need to practice.”

 

“So you’ve been planned this…?”

 

“Mhum”

 

It was unnerving how calmly the man was speaking about the whole thing, acting like it was completely normal.  Despite how he felt, Mark pushed for more information. “For how long?”

 

“Awhile.” His captor answered simply, moving closer.

 

“Yeah, but how long? Days? Weeks? Months?”

 

“Does it matter? I took as long as I need to for you.” The man said in a sudden firmer tone. Mark found himself sinking a little in his chair from the sharp answer. Noticing Mark sinking, the stranger's tone shifted to sound sweeter. "Don't worry about these things, love. It doesn’t matter anymore how long it took because you’re here. It was all worth it…”

 

The voice drew closer as the footsteps headed towards the American. Without the top light, he could barely see the figure moving. Suddenly, the man dropped to his knees in front of Mark and moved to the side of him. Sighing contently, his head gently resting again the American's thigh. "It's just you and me now, my love."

 

Mark shifted uncomfortably. The stranger didn't seem to notice or didn’t seem to mind Mark moving as he hummed a little.  "S-so what now then?"

 

"Well, I'm okay with just staying here. I'm with you now. I know I can be happy so long as I'm with you."

 

"Mm... Well, this chair is a little uncomfortable... Along with the ropes..." The American said, adding the slightest whine to his voice. He had no idea if his captor could be reasoned with, but it couldn’t hurt to try.

 

The man was silent for a moment as if thinking over what Mark had said.  "I could loosen the ropes a little and go get you a pillow so it's a little more comfortable." He offered, even lifting his head a little off of Mark.

 

"I've been sitting for hours... Couldn't I at least change position or something?" Mark persisted, being careful of his pleading tone. The man was silent again as he processed the request.

 

" _Promise_ you won't leave me?"Mark’s captor lifted his head up all the way to face Mark. His tone sounded innocent and fragile, but the first word held a sinister hidden meaning.

 

Swallowing his nerve, the American nodded quickly, "I-I wouldn't know where to go without you, dear...~"

 

The man made what could only be the happiest hum as he stood up. “I love you too~” His jovial voice from earlier was back. It appeared Mark’s careful words had put him in a good mood.

 

Unphased by the darkness, the man untied the ropes around the American’s wrist with ease. Once Mark’s arms were released, the American rubbed at his wrist, feeling an imprint from where the rope once one. His skin was most likely red.

 

"They may have been a little too tight... I apologize, love." The man commented solemnly while moving behind Mark.

 

"I'll live." Mark simply said, still rubbing his wrists. The American tried to look behind him, feeling more nervous with his captor out of sight. Although, it didn’t take long for the rope around his chest to fall loose, and for the man to make his back to the front, undoing the rope around Mark’s ankle. With Mark nearly free and his captor close, the American ponder a surprise attack. Or at least, kicking the man in the face while he down there.

 

However, Mark wasn't going to risk a fight with someone who was clearly capable of many illegal skills. Not yet anyway. He waited patiently for his captor to finish untying him.

 

When the last bit of rope fell to the floor, the man quickly stood up and back away a little. "You might be a little stiff at first… Be careful.”

 

The American took the advice. His arms and legs certainly felt stiff. His movement had to be slow, and once he was completely standing, Mark started to wobble.  The man stepped closer, offering a hand, but the American refused to take any help, using the chair to steady himself. Slowly, he sat down on the floor. Mark doubted he could make a run for it with how sore and off balanced he was.

 

"Can I get you anything love? Maybe a glass of water?" Mark’s captor asked as soon as the American sat down.

 

Mark lifted his gaze to the other male, managing to smile politely. "Water, please. And maybe a blanket since the floor is cold."

 

The man nodded his head with a small bow, "Of course! I won't be too long." He made his way to the back of the room and appeared to lift up part of the wall before disappearing behind the wall. His steps echoing as they moved further away. There were stairs.

 

"I'll be waiting..~" Mark called and gave a wave to his captor. With the stairs, the American could guess what room he was in. Once his captor was out of the basement, Mark got to his feet. He hoped to find the light switch, heading toward where the lamp was. His movements were still slow and occasionally his legs threatening to give out.

 

Somehow, he couldn’t find the light switch from earlier. Reasoning that the search was wasting time, Mark gave up on the light switch. Focusing his energy on moving carefully, the American made his way to end of the room. He pushed the tarp to the side and stepped behind it, becoming surrounded by darkness.

 

Carelessly, Mark rushed for the steps. His foot pushing an object he couldn’t see on the floor. As it slid and crashed into the nearby wall, the sound of it clattering echoed up the stairs.

 

 

 

The American heard quick steps from above and then the door opened.

 

“Love?”


End file.
